Secrets Are Hard to Keep
by tannismichelle
Summary: Killian Jones is a mysterious, private man who writes bestselling novels for a living. Emma Swan is a journalist who writes stories about hard to find people. Emma goes to Storybrooke in search of the man who has become her next target. He knows who she is; she has no clue what he even looks like. And they both have their secrets.
1. Chapter 1

She knows she has to open the door. The lights are on and so is the TV. _Why do I insist on having the TV up so loud?_ she asks herself, _and turning on every light in the damn apartment?_ She knows he knows she's home. She just really didn't want to deal with him yet. Emma was really good at running away from her problems, but this problem did not know how to stay away. She took a deep breath, counted to 5, and opened the door with the chain still latched.

"Well hello there, Swan." Killian said with a smirk. He knew she would open the door. Just wasn't sure how long it would take. He had guessed it would've taken a lot longer.

"What do you want, Jones?" Emma knew he had her. His smile really was irresistible, and those eyes, and that beard. She was at least able to hold in a sigh. She did have some pride left. He would have to work for it before she gave in.

"Oh, you know, just checking in. Aren't you going to invite me in, lass? It is the middle of winter out here?" he smiled wider. He knew she was going to let him in. He was very persistent when it came to getting his way.

"No, I'm not going to invite you in. I'm busy. Maybe you should've thought about that possibility before you walked all the way here without a coat. This is New England. It's winter. It's cold."

"Come on, Swan. I won't bite." He smirked even more and raised an eyebrow. He had no shame when it came to flirting with this woman. He knew it would work. She just didn't want to admit that she had feelings for him.

"Fine. But only because you're letting all my heat out. Make it fast. I have stuff to do, and I don't have time to deal with whatever problem you're having today." She closes the door to unlatch the chain but takes a breath before opening the door again to let him in. She had to admit: he was the only one who could knock her off her game so easily.

6 months earlier:

Killian Jones is, what people consider, a private person . He knows a little bit about all of the goings on in the small town of Storybrooke; however, no one really knows much about him. That's just the way he likes it too. The less people know, the easier it is for him to go about his business unnoticed. He keeps a close eye on what everyone is up to on a daily basis, but keeping his distance makes it easier for him to not get too close. Nothing good ever comes from that.

He gets along well with everyone, mostly. There are a few exceptions. Mr. Gold being the big one, and the feeling is totally mutual. But until it made sense to do otherwise, the two men just ignore each other, or at least only flipped each other off when the other's back was turned. He likes Robin enough to go out for beers every once in awhile and listen to Robin tell plenty of stories about his past adventures. They weren't always the most interesting; that man is really in to camping, and Killian can't always understand what is so great about sleeping in the dirt. Killian listens, laughs, and enjoys himself, but he can just never work up the nerve to share his own stories.

He lives on a boat that he keeps docked close to town, but he likes the peace that the ocean brings him and the fact that he doesn't have any nosy neighbors. He loves to spend his nights on the deck watching the stars. It's peaceful and private. Just the way he likes it. When he's gotten enough fresh air to clear his mind, he goes inside and sits down at his computer and attempts to write. That's why he watches everyone. The people aren't always interesting, but sometimes they offer him some sort of inspiration for his stories. Lately, he's really been struggling with coming up with much of anything, though. He stares at the blinking cursor in a blank word doc for 2 hours before he finally gives up with a sigh. He resists the urge to toss the computer across the room and decides that maybe a change of scenery will help. Tomorrow, he'll try to write somewhere else. Maybe that will spark his creativity again.

The next day he's sitting in the coffee shop around the corner from Granny's diner when a woman he hasn't seen before walks in. She sticks out like a sore thumb, too. Her red leather jacket and long blonde hair contrasting her so completely from the other boring people in town. Killian is instantly curious about this woman who walks in so casually to a place where strangers just never go. People didn't just come to Storybrooke. There wasn't any reason to travel so far away from actual civilization. He can't even remember why he ended up here. He watches her from his seat in the corner while she thinks about her order. He decides he has to find out more about who this woman is and why she's here.


	2. Chapter 2

I just don't understand why you have to be gone for so long," Neal told Emma, while laying on the bed as she packed her bag.

"I told you. This story is important. No one knows who this guy actually is; I have to find him," Emma tried not to roll her eyes. She had told Neal a million times why she was leaving, and that she might be gone a while. She swore that he never listened to her. And it's not like she hadn't been gone before. She traveled all the time for her stories. This wasn't anything new.

"I know it's important. It's just…what will I do while you're gone?

"I don't know, Neal. But I'm guessing that you'll figure it out."

She was on the drive headed to Storybrooke, and she kept thinking about that conversation. Although she loved him, she couldn't handle how clingy and needy he was being. She knew that he would figure it out, that he was a grown ass man. He just didn't want to have figure it out. And she was tired, oh so tired, of having to take care of him. To be honest, she was glad to be gone for a few months. They would visit each other, of course, but she needed a break.

Emma had always been independent. Being a child of the foster care program did that to a person. She didn't like to rely on anyone. They always let you down. She made the exception for Neal. He really was the only one she had let in since moving to New York. She, however, felt so incredibly stuck with him now. She knew he loved her, and he wasn't the most responsible adult ever. She could cope with that; she just couldn't cope with his insistence that he always be around her. Emma regretted ever agreeing to moving in with him. She should've known that having her own place was necessary for her mental health.

Emma liked living in New York. She could easily get lost in a crowd, and that was the way she liked it. She didn't need, nor want, anyone to know too much about her. But she loved her job. She loved finding out information that no one else could. She interviewed people who refused to be interviewed for years. She accepted the challenge no matter what. People told her things. She didn't know why, but she used it to her advantage.

When she finally pulled her old, yellow bug into Storybrooke, she had a hard time imagining why anyone would choose this place to live. There was nothing there…She looked around for anything resembling an actual store. She saw nothing. _What is this place?_ she asked herself. Emma was not used to small town living. She wasn't sure how all of this was going to work. Because she had a feeling that this story would be pretty time consuming, she had contacted someone about renting a short-term apartment. They weren't expecting her for another 3 hours, though. She figured she might as well have a look around before she met with them.

Because of her connections within the publishing community, Emma had found out that the author C. Hook lived in Storybrooke. But that was it. She had met a lot of secretive people in her time as a journalist, but no one seemed quite as mysterious as C. Hook. Her friend, who worked at his publisher, said that no one there even knew what he looked like. They knew he was man, and that the checks were sent to a P.O. Box Storybrooke, and that was it. This story might be her most difficult one yet, but she was more than ready for the challenge.

She had left early in the morning to get here so she needed some coffee. Luckily, one thing that Storybrooke did have was a coffee shop. She walked in to the quaint little shop and looked over the menu. It was quieter than the coffee places in New York. That's what stuck out to her the most: how quiet it was there. But there wasn't a line, and that was enough to make her not miss New York just yet. She walked up to the teenage boy behind the counter and ordered her favorite drink, a vanilla latte. She liked to keep it simple.

It was when she turned around to find a table to sit at when she finally noticed the man sitting in the corner watching her. She wasn't sure what his malfunction was, but she did notice how attractive he was. He had a scruffy beard and beautiful eyes, which she only noticed once they made eye contact. She probably blushed. She couldn't always help it and decided it would be best to sit at the table on the opposite side of the room with her back to him. She had a job to do. She couldn't get distracted.


	3. Chapter 3

Killian couldn't think about anything else the rest of the day. _So much for trying a new place to try to write,_ he thought to himself as he paced back-and-forth in the cabin of his boat. He couldn't stop thinking about the woman in the red jacket even though she had left the coffee shop about half an hour ago. He smiled to himself when he thought about how she sat on the completely opposite side of the cafe from him. He had tried to see what she was up to, but she seemed pretty set on keeping it hidden. He couldn't even grab a peek of her computer screen, which meant he still couldn't figure out what would bring her to Storybrooke.

But he really couldn't spend anymore time thinking about this mystery stranger. He had a novel to start, and his publisher would be pissed if he missed another deadline. _You write bestselling novels for a LIVING. Get your shit together, Killian._ He sighed to himself and continued to stare at the blank document in front of him. He didn't even have a clue what this story was going to be about. He kept catching himself watching out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of a red leather jacket. He should probably call his publisher…

All of sudden a thought occurred to him; he got a call from his publisher about a month ago. There was a journalist wanting to interview him. He wondered if this mystery woman was her. Since he got a call every couple of months about journalists wanting an interview, he ignored it. He, of course, hadn't even wanted to find out more information about the journalist. He knew he wouldn't do the interview, but he hadn't expected to be tracked down.

The last thing that Killian wanted to do was give an interview; but if she was the journalist, it could be an easy way for him to get to know her. He couldn't make up his mind. He didn't want anyone to know he was C. Hook. He liked his quiet life, and he refused to give that up. He rolled his eyes at himself because he was being ridiculous. He wasn't going to give up his privacy just to have an excuse to get to know the stranger in the red jacket. Well, he wasn't making any progress on the novel front. He might as well get out from behind the computer. He could use a drink.

"Hey Robin, wanna grab a pint?" He had decided that, for once, he needed to talk about what was going on in his life. There was just something about this woman, and it kept throwing him off his guard. But there was a problem with talking to Robin about his dilemma: Robin didn't know about his career either. How was he going to ask for advice when he couldn't even talk about the root of the problem?

"Yes, please. I need to get out of this bloody house." Robin was dating the mayor. Killian knew that Regina was a tough, stubborn woman. That meant that sometimes Robin and Regina didn't necessarily see eye-to-eye.

"Right. Meet you at the bar in an hour or so."

He technically had a deadline for the first chunk of his next book, but he didn't care. His publisher would be pissed, but he'd deal with that later. No one needed to know just yet that he hadn't even finished the first chapter yet.

Killian and Robin had been at the bar for an hour or so before Killian got up the nerve to bring it up. His first drink helped give him the nerve.

"Right, so I have this friend. And he wants to…" Killian was trying his best to talk about his problem without giving away his secret.

"You have friend that isn't me?" Robin interrupted him with a chuckle.

"Yes. I have friends. There's a lot about me that you don't know. Can I finish, please?" Killian was a little peeved with the assertion that he didn't have friends, but that wasn't the point of this whole thing.

"Of course. I just wanted some clarification," Robin said as he gestured for the bartender to grab him another drink.

For the next 20 minutes are so, Killian tried the whole "my friend has this problem" routine. He could tell the Robin wasn't buying it but knew that Robin wouldn't push the issue either. The gist of it was that he knew some information that someone wanted, but his friend had promised not to say anything. But the person who wants the information is very interesting, and his friend wanted to get to know her better.

"Well, it sounds like this 'friend' should probably just tell the truth, mate," Robin said after taking a couple of minutes to think about it. "If he wants to get to know this woman, he should probably not start the whole thing off with dishonesty."

"But this has bigger implications, like, what if my friend's secret got out? Then no one would leave him alone"

"I don't know, man. It sounds like your 'friend' can't have it both ways. It's either tell this woman what she wants to know or don't. It's not like your 'friend' can pretend to…I don't know…know everything about the guy without giving away that he is the guy."

That, of course, gave Killian, what he considered to be, the best idea ever. He could pretend to be C. Hook's agent. People in Storybrooke only knew that he worked from home. It's plausible that they would believe that he was the agent for some author that they hadn't even heard of. He could tell the journalist that he had been given permission to talk to her. Problem solved. But he wasn't going to tell Robin that. He ordered another beer. This was an idea to celebrate.

"You're right. My friend should just be honest. Thanks, Robin."

That's when she walked in. She still had on the red jacket but had left her bag at home. She was looking around for a place she could sit. She found a booth in a quieter part of the bar. She seemed to prefer sitting where she could observe the people in the bar but go unnoticed herself. Killian chugged the rest of his beer and decided to go introduce himself.

"I'll be right back, mate." He told Robin before strutting over to the table. He was buzzing already and feeling pretty cocky, too. He didn't quite have a game plan for what to do once he got to the table, but he would figure it out.

"Hello there, lass. I don't know if you recognize me, but I was in the coffee shop this morning. I should've introduced myself then, but it's better late than never. I'm Killian Jones." He watched her look him over before she replied. She seemed annoyed that he even walked over, but she quickly masked the annoyance with a smile.

"Hi, Killian. I do recognize you. It's nice to meet you. I'm Emma Swan."

"Hello, Emma. Mind if I join you?" He gestured to the seat across the booth from her.

"Sure. Maybe you can recommend some food to order here."

"Of course. I consider myself an expert in what to order in every restaurant in Storybrooke. I'd recommend the mac and cheese here."

"That sounds great. I think I will get that." He waited while she ordered her dinner and drink before he asked the question he'd been dying to ask.

"What brings you to Storybrooke?"

"I'm a journalist, and I'm working on a story." He gave himself a mental high-five. She was the journalist. At least now, he had a pretty good idea why she there. Now the trick would be to try to be cool while he was feeling a little drunk.

"Oh, yeah. What about?"

"Oh, I haven't completely worked it out yet, and I don't want to jinx it by talking about it too soon."

The small talk continued for about an hour as they finished their drinks and Emma ate her dinner before she said that she should probably go. Killian stayed at the bar for a little longer with Robin. He had expected her to ask about C. Hook, but apparently she wasn't ready to ask about that yet, which meant he was still so curious about her. He had tried to get her talk about herself, but she hadn't given much away. She just said that she lived in New York, was a journalist, and might be staying in Storybrooke for some time. That last bit of information was a relief. He was glad he had some more time to figure her out.

When he got home, he was buzzing from the 3 beers that he ended up having with Robin before he headed home. In the fuzziness created from too much alcohol, he decided he had to google Emma Swan. He was not above Facebook creeping either if it meant he could find out more about this Emma. If she was a journalist, he figured he could probably find out some information about her. Or at least one of the articles she's written. He grabbed another beer from his fridge, which was probably not the best choice, and sat down at the computer.

"Let's see what we can find out about you, Miss Emma Swan," Killian whispered out loud. She part of him recognized how ridiculous this whole thing was, but it didn't stop him from doing it anyways. Her bio from the paper she worked for in New York was the first search result. It didn't tell him much about her that she hadn't told him herself, but he read it 3 times anyways.

 _Emma Swan is an award-winning journalist based New York City. She is best known for her exclusive interviews with notoriously private authors, film critics, and movie directors. No story is too challenging for Ms. Swan to undertake._

If that told Killian anything, this Ms. Swan made a point to find people who didn't want to be found. He really had to think more about this crazy ass plan of his. He googled around a little more and even read some of the articles that she had written. She really was a great writer. He wasn't surprised that she had won the multiple journalism rewards that were listed after her bio. He caught himself slowly dozing off while he was scrolling through an article. He got up with the intention of going to bed but barely made it to the couch before he fell asleep face down with his shoes still on.


	4. Chapter 4

Emma walked into the little, furnished apartment she had rented, hung her jacket on the hook, and walked to the fridge. It was out of habit that she even opened it because she definitely hadn't had time to grocery shop, yet. She closed the door to the fridge with a disappointed sigh before going to change into some leggings and an oversized gray sweater. She was glad to be alone. It was quiet, and she didn't have to worry about talking to anyone. She opened up her computer and connected to the wifi that was, thankfully, included with the apartment. _Maybe I'll watch some Netflix._ She was tired but not yet ready for bed. She just wanted to curl up on the couch and relax.

Earlier that night, she had run into that guy from the coffee shop again at the bar. She had been trying to get a feel for the town and the people, but he had ended up taking up most of her time. Not that she minded that much. He was so handsome with those piercing blue eyes, and she was pretty sure that he was also a little bit drunk. She had learned that his name was Killian Jones. She knew C. Hook was a pen name so she was on the look out for anyone who might be him, but she couldn't get a read on this Killian guy. She had thought about asking him about C. Hook but wasn't sure that she wanted everyone to know why she was in town yet. If C. Hook was in town, she didn't want to scare him away. She decided to put on an episode of _Gilmore Girls_ and settled in to binge watch a few. She really didn't have anywhere to be in the morning; she could stay up all night.

It was about 2 and a half episodes later that Emma realized that she kept thinking about Killian. Something about him just made her really curious. She opened a new tab on her computer and went to Google. She knew it was silly to google someone she had just met, but at least she could tell herself she was just doing research for her story. _Who are you, Killian Jones?_ She said to herself as she typed his name into the search. There were hardly any results that came up about him. The only one that seemed to be actually him was his Facebook page. _Hmm. This could be interesting._

His profile picture showed blue skies and an even bluer water. He was standing at the wheel of a ship with a grin as wide as humanly possible. _Well, that IS interesting_. Emma found herself grinning at just the look of how happy he seemed to be. She couldn't remember the last time she felt as free as he looked in that picture. She skimmed through his pictures and Facebook posts, but he didn't post much personal stuff. She couldn't really judge him; she wasn't the poster child for Facebook updates either. She decided to watch a few more episodes, but it wasn't long before she felt her eyes sliding shut. She considered getting up and going to bed, but she drifted off to sleep before she could work up the motivation to get off the couch.

She woke with a start a few hours later. She had been having a dream with Killian Jones as a guest star. She couldn't quite remember exactly what her dream had been about, but the rosy blush on her cheeks told her it probably wasn't entirely innocent. _What is it about this man?_ She couldn't get him off of her mind. He was incredibly attractive, sure, but it wasn't like Emma hadn't been around attractive men before. There had to be something else. She finally forced herself off the couch and crawled under the warm, fluffy covers of her bed. She fell back to sleep with thoughts of clouds and pirates in her head.

The sun started peeking in through the crack in the curtains. Emma stretched across the whole bed and looked up at the ceiling. She couldn't remember the last night she felt so rested. It was nice. She hadn't set an alarm and had no idea what time it was. She rolled onto her side to grab her phone off of the nightstand. It was 11am. She couldn't believe she had slept in so late. It was the middle of the morning, and she couldn't hear a sound. This was definitely not the city anymore. She decided to lay in bed a little longer and scroll through her phone.

When she got hungry, she decided she would finally get out of bed and walk down to Granny's Diner for breakfast or lunch or brunch. She'd take whatever Granny's had to serve. She saw him as soon as she walked in. He was nursing a steaming cup of black coffee and looked a little worse-for-wear. He had his head in his hand and his eyes tightly shut. The extra scruff somehow made him even prettier.

"Had a bit too much to drink last night, huh?" Emma asked while sliding into the booth across from him.

"Aye. I didn't exactly make good choices," he groaned without even opening his eyes. Emma stifled a chuckle. She knew what it was like to be hungover, but she didn't feel bad for him.

"Did you take any aspirin? That usually helps me," she offered helpfully. He really did look pitiful.

"I don't like taking medicine. Coffee should work," Killian finally opened his eyes and smirked a little at her.

"Well, if you insist. Food is probably the furthest from your mind, but do you have any recommendations?"

"Pancakes. It's hard to go wrong with pancakes."

They sat for awhile while Emma ate her pancakes, and Killian started to slowly recover from his night. They chatted about Storybrooke with Emma asking about some of the people who walked in to Granny's. She was getting ready to get up to leave when she made an impulsive decision.

"You seem to be feeling a little better. Would you like to take a walk with me? Maybe you can give me the grand tour of Storybrooke." Emma asked before she could stop herself.

"Aye. That sounds lovely, lass. I may not be up for the grand tour, but I can probably manage the highlights."

"Maybe we could start at the docks. I would love to see the ocean," She suggested before she could stop herself. She knew she only asked because she wanted to see the ship from the pictures. She had the heart of a journalist: always wanting to know more. She was glad when Killian nodded and led the way out of Granny's.

He pointed out a few places on the way to the docks. He even included Gold's shop and the school. Emma looked around in mild disbelief. This place was just too surreal. Everything seemed perfect and quaint. She had never been to such a peaceful place. Emma recognized the ship the second they got to the docks. They walked towards it.

"This one is actually mine," he said when they finally made it to the ship.

"That's so cool. _Jolly Roger,"_ Emma read off the side of the boat, _"_ that's an interesting name. Does it have a story?"

"It does. But maybe we'll save that for the grand tour, eh? It's complicated."

Emma knew better than to push when people said something like that. She heard it all the time while interviewing people, so she had learned that they'd eventually tell her if she gave them the space that they asked for. Emma walked over the rail and leaned over breathing in the brisk ocean air. She closed her eyes and listened to the waves and the gulls. She couldn't get over how quiet it was. She felt, rather than saw, Killian lean up against the rail beside her. She could feel the warmth from his arm and a shiver ran down her spine. She hadn't been that close to him yet, and her body was urging her to get closer. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Killian observing her with a weird look on his face. It was the kind of look that had her seriously considering that he might feel the same way. They looked in each other eyes for longer than was usually comfortable before she cleared her throat and looked away.

"So, how long have you had the ship?" she asked, desperate to break the tension and possibly clear her head.

"Oh. It feels like forever."

"Do you get to take it out a lot? It would be a shame if it was stuck on the dock most of time."

"I take it out every once in a while, but I actually live there right now. It's quite cozy."

"That sounds like an adventure." They talked a little bit more before Killian walked her back to Granny's. She had to get back to her computer; she probably had way too many unread emails from her boss. Once they arrived back at Granny's, they awkwardly said goodbye, and she headed up the stairs to her apartment. She couldn't believe how drawn she was to him and couldn't figure it out. She has only had one sober conversation with the man. He was still very much a stranger. She plopped down on the couch with the intention of opening up her emails, but instead she stared out the window and found herself thinking about Killian, again.


	5. Chapter 5

A few days after showing Emma his boat, Killian woke up to the sun shining brightly in. He had fallen asleep on the couch again after spending the night trying to write his novel. He had sat staring at his computer the entire day and had written one whole chapter, a really shitty one. His editor had called him and gave him a massive guilt trip about missing his deadline. He had no excuse. Not that his editor would even accept one at this point. Maybe he was a little bit distracted, but he wasn't exactly going to admit that.

He had loved having the opportunity to show Emma the _Jolly Roger_ and finally having a sober conversation with her. He was surprised by how much he had wanted to kiss her that moment on the dock, but he knew how crazy that was. You don't go around kissing people you don't know. He hadn't seen Emma around town in the last couple of days, but he hadn't exactly been out of the house more than once either. He had promised his editor that he would buckle down and get to writing. He put his face in his hands then pushed the chair back from the computer. This wasn't getting anything done. Maybe he'd head to Granny's for lunch.

He walked into Granny's about an hour later and saw Robin sitting at the counter. He strode over to join him and ordered his usual. He and Robin chatted for a bit about Regina and Robin's work before Killian noticed Emma walking in. She sat a booth by the door and picked up the the menu.

"See you later, mate," Killian told Robin before he even had a chance to ask him what was up.

"Hey!" Emma exclaimed when she saw that Killian was there, "care to join me?"

"Of course. I've already eaten, but I won't mind keeping you company. How are you finding Storybrooke these past few days?"

"Oh. Pretty good. I've been doing some research. Actually, I wonder if you might be able to help me out with it."

"Oh yeah? What are you researching, lass?"

"An author. He goes by a pen name, though. C. Hook. Have you heard of him?" Here it was. The opportunity he was waiting for. He felt bad about lying to her, but he had to keep his secret and but wanted to help her out at the same time. He took a deep breath.

"Aye. I have, lass. I work for him. I'm his publicist." Now, she was looking at him like she couldn't believe it.

"What? You do? Does he live here? Can I talk to him?" She barely took a pause between her questions and was already digging for her notebook in her bag.

"Whoah. Whoah. Slow down, Swan. If you know about him, you know that he's pretty secretive. I probably shouldn't have even told you that I work for him."  
"Well, is there anyway I can get an interview with him?" He could tell she wasn't going to give up that easily.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll ask him about it and see what I can do."

"Great! Thanks! Here's my cell number. Let me know once you find out," she said as she ripped a page out of her notebook and wrote her number down. She started to get up from the booth before she even ordered her food.

"Wait. You didn't even get your food," Killian reminded her.

"Oh. I'll eat later. I have work to do now."  
He watched her walk quickly away, texting the entire way until she was out of his sight. He had butterflies in his stomach and couldn't quite figure out what he had just done. He had never acknowledged to anyone that he even knew who C. Hook was let alone that he was associated with him. What was he going to do now? Was he really going to carry on with this charade? Yes. Yes, he was.

Now, he just had to figure out how this whole thing was supposed to work.

It was an hour later, and he was still pacing around the cabin in the boat. Sitting still was impossible. He still couldn't quite believe that he had told Emma that he worked for C. Hook. He plopped down on the couch and sighed. Well, if he was going to do this, he better commit to it. He pulled out his cell phone, dialed Emma's number, and took a deep breath before putting the phone to his ear.

"Hello." Emma's voice sounded excited.

"Hey, lass. I talked to Hook. He said I could talk to you on his behalf if that works for you."

"Of course it does. When can we meet up?"

"So eager. I have time tonight. What about at the bar?"

"Perfect. Meet you there at 8." And she hung up the phone before he could even say anything else.

He decided he would get to the bar an hour or so before Emma got there. He wanted the chance to have a drink or two before he had to actually deal with the interview. Could he even call it that? Is that what they were going to do? Who knew? All he knew was that he was invested in this story now; he couldn't back out. He sat down at a table in the corner and ordered a beer. He downed that one quickly before ordering a second. He finished that one almost as quickly as the first before he decided he might want to slow down, but he still ordered a third. He was nursing his fourth (or was it the fifth) beer when Emma walked over to join him at the table.

"Hey."

"Hey, Emma." He was grinning like a moron and had a slight drunken slur to his voice.

"Are you drunk?" He could since the annoyance in her voice.

"Nah, lass. I'd need a lot more than four beers to be drunk. Sit. Sit."

Emma looked skeptical about that but sat down anyways. She dug in her bag and pulled out her notebook to take notes.

"Are you going to get anything to drink?" Killian asked while waving the waiter over to take her order.

"No, thanks. I'll just have a water. I don't drink while I'm working."

"Suit yourself, love. I'm going to get another one."

"So, how do you know C. Hook?" She was apparently ready to get to work. He was not.

"You look lovely tonight, Swan. Can we just chat for a bit first?"

"No. We cannot. We're here for a reason, and you said you had information for me, but if you're not going to take it seriously, I might as well leave." She started packing up her bag. He could tell she was not going to fall for any of his usual charms.

"Stay, lass. I do have information for you. I just like to get to know people before we get down to business." He may have been a little drunk, but he knew he had to get her to stay if this was going to work. "I may have had one too many beers."

"One too many? More like 4 too many. Maybe we should pick this up when you're not so drunk. Let me know when you're ready to take this seriously." She got up from the table and walked straight out the door without looking back. He put his forehead on the table. He couldn't believe he screwed it up. Plus, his head was getting heavy. He started to get up to head home and felt his head spin a bit. It was going to be a long walk so he ordered another beer before he left. The walk home was…interesting. A straight line was elusive, and it definitely took more time for him to find his way back. When he finally got back to the boat, he barely made it into the cabin before passing out on the bed.

The sun was high in the sky before he even began to wake up. His mouth was drier than the Sahara, and it felt like his brain was trying to find a way out of his head. He groaned as he rolled over and put his pillow over his head. That's when everything from last night came rushing back. _Well, you're real good at screwing shit up, aren't you, Jones?_ He groaned again. He knew it could've gone way worse, but he definitely had some work to do to get Emma to believe he was telling the truth.

He finally stumbled out of bed and closed the few curtains he had in the boat. He shuffled over to the coffeemaker to brew himself a strong pot to help him get through the day. He probably should try to fix things with Emma. He pulled out his phone and saw that he didn't have any notifications. She obviously wasn't going to reach out to him first. Not that he was expecting her to. He was just a little hopeful. It took him the better part of 20 minutes to figure out what to say to her before he finally came up with:

 _Swan, sorry about last night. I made an ass of myself. If you'd still like to, I can meet with you soon to talk about C. Hook. Promise to stay sober this time._

He finally worked up the courage to press send. Now, he just had to wait for a reply. If he even got one. He was sitting at his computer with his cup of coffee and checking his email when he finally heard the sound he was waiting for.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Wow! It's been a long time! It's been the last couple of weeks of the semester of school for me, and things have been beyond crazy! Here's a short little update to let y'all know that I'm back and should be updating regularly. Look for a longer chapter soon :D**

* * *

She was pissed. She finally thought she had caught a break on C. Hook, and some ass-hat decided it would be a good idea to use it as a means to hit on her. She was not about that. She liked Killian and all, but when it came to her work, she took it very seriously. She couldn't believe he was drunk before she even got there. Who does that? She had been pacing since she got home from the bar. She was so mad that she couldn't sit still. She plopped down on the couch and put her feet up. She felt like she was back on square one with looking for C. Hook. She wasn't really buying that Killian even knew C. Hook, let alone that he worked for him. She had called Neal to vent about it, but he wasn't really interested in talking about her problems. He just kept complaining about the fact that she wasn't back home yet. It had been a week, which was a fact that she kept reminding him. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. She might as well go to bed if she was just going to sit there fuming. She didn't have the patience or the energy to deal with that day anymore.

It was the next afternoon, and she had already been up since dawn. She did not sleep well when she was pissed. She was browsing around on Twitter when she heard the chime of her cell phone. She figured it would be Neal checking in on her again. She was surprised to see that it was Killian.

 _Swan, sorry about last night. I made an ass of myself. If you'd still like to, I can meet with you soon to talk about C. Hook. Promise to stay sober this time._

The urge to write a very rude response was very strong, but she knew she couldn't risk the chance of such a scoop. She was not going to reply just yet. She resisted the urge to chuck her phone at the wall and settled with setting it down harder than necessary. She was not always a forgiving person, but this was one situation where she was going to have to try to get over it quickly. She went back to Twitter. _How long should I make him wait?_ she wondered to herself. He had to know that she was upset with him, but she didn't want to let him off the hook without a scratch.

She pulled up the notes that she had started for the story. She couldn't believe how little she had been able to find on C. Hook. The frustration was so real. She hated that it seemed like the only way to find out more information would be to talk to Killian Jones. She didn't like to be backed into corners, but she picked up her phone anyways. It had been about an hour since he sent the message; it had probably been long enough.

 _Meet me at Granny's tomorrow at noon. I don't usually give people second chances. Don't make me regret it._

She pressed send and had a reply within 5 minutes.

 _I'll be there. Sober and apologetic._

She smiled before she could stop herself. What was she thinking? Maybe it was the accent or the scruff, but she couldn't help but be a little glad that things might work out.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma was walking along the main street when she ran into a woman with an adorable pixie cut and pushing a stroller.

"Hi! You must be Emma!" the woman said with a bright, friendly smile. "I'm Mary Margaret. You've been the talk of the town," she said. When she saw Emma's surprised face, she quickly added, "we don't get a lot of visitors."

"Hi. It's nice to meet you, Mary Margaret." Emma couldn't help but return the smile. This woman's niceness was infectious.

"Where are you headed?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Just to the coffee shop to work on some work and get a caffeine fix."  
"I'm headed that way too. Do you mind if I walk with you?"

"Not at all. Your little one is adorable, by the way. What's his name?"

"Thank you! His name is Neal. A little silly, but my husband couldn't be dissuaded."

"It's a cute name. It's actually my boyfriend's name, too."

"Oh. What a coincidence!"

Emma and Mary Margaret talked the entire way to the coffee shop. Emma mostly listened as Mary Margaret filled her in on the town gossip, but honestly, she hadn't met someone who was so genuinely nice before. They parted ways after the ordered their drinks, but they had made plans to meet up for dinner soon.

Emma found a table in a quiet corner of the cafe and set up her work space and began checking her email. She had one from her editor nagging her for another story. She would probably have to work on a smaller story while working on the C. Hook one. Her editors, of course, wanted her to work on the main story, but she hadn't submitted a story in a while. She would have to figure something. Sighing and looking out the window, she noticed just how quaint and peaceful Storybrooke was.

* * *

Killian couldn't stop pacing on the deck of the _Jolly Roger._ He was getting ready to head to Granny's to meet up with Emma, but he didn't want to get there too early. Nervous didn't begin to describe how he felt about meeting up with Emma after he made such an ass of himself. One good thing had come from that whole mess though; he had finally gotten a decent start to his next novel. After pulling an all-nighter, he had sent his editor the first 5 chapters just that morning. He knew Emma had something to do with the end of his writer's block, and he was glad for it.

He decided he had waited long enough and started the walk towards Granny's. It wouldn't take him long to get there, and he wanted to make sure that he had to admit that he was excited to see Emma. He found a booth near a window and ordered a burger. It was noon. It wasn't until he finished his food that he began to wonder if she had decided to stand him up. It was 12:30 when he finally heard his text tone.

 _Running a little late. Be there asap._

A little late _?_ In what universe was this a little late? He sighed audibly. _I guess this is her way of paying me back,_ he thought to himself. _It could probably be a lot worse._ Well, if he had to wait, he might as well order dessert. It was almost 1 when she finally showed up. He was browsing his phone when he finally heard the door open.

"A little late?" he asked her with a smirk when she finally made her way over to his table.

"Yeah. A little late. Is that a problem?" He could tell that she was testing him.

"Of course not. I don't have any other plans today." He was trying to sound as causal as he possibly could.

"Alright. Since we're both here, why don't we get started."

"You really are all business, aren't you?"

" I really am." She had started setting up everything. Pulling out pen and paper and a tape recorder. "Do you mind if I record our interview?"

"Might as well. I'm sure I'll have plenty to say."

She started by asking him the basics. How old was C. Hook? Where was he from? He mostly told her the truth with a few elaborations of course. He may feel slightly bad about lying to Emma, but he always liked to tell a good story. He couldn't resist.

"So, how do you know Hook?" she finally asked.

"Well, like I said, he grew up in England. Well, obviously, so did I. We went to college together and majored in English. It was a small world." She paused to take some notes.

"But, I don't get it," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "How is it that you just happen to represent your old college buddy? There aren't many stories like that out there."

"It was just luck, Swan. I got a job at the agency that would eventually represent him. Coincidence, really." By the look on her face, he could tell that she wasn't buying everything that he was selling, but she didn't push it any further.

"Well, I think I have enough to get started. Thank you, Mr. Jones." She started to pack up her stuff.

"Can I convince you to let me buy you a drink? To make up for last time."

"I'm not sure that is the best idea. Plus, I'd like to get started on this story." She did smile at him for the first time since she got there, however. He'd take that as a good sign.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be at the bar later tonight." He got up to leave and head out. "I really hope you change your mind, Swan."

He went back to the boat and sat down on his couch. Admittedly, he felt a little smug about how well the meeting went. He knew that she didn't trust his version of the story fully, but she did believe enough of it to keep meeting with him for a least a little while.

He met Robin at the bar later that night. He didn't expect Emma to show up, but he definitely wanted to be there just in case. He was there for about an hour when he glanced at the door. He felt a jolt in his stomach and couldn't help but break into a wide grin. Emma Swan had walked in the door.


End file.
